Tuesday, 12 June 2012

A Crown is merely a Hat that lets the Rain in

..
The post title is a quote from Frederick the Great (who he?) and seems most apposite in the week of rain and jubilations.

The Socks spent Jubilee week in Dorset - not the best of holidays, rain, more rain, gales, a really bad crab sandwich with more crabshell than crab in it, sinus problems, toothache, emergency dentist visit, anti-biotics and more rain.  If I said the highlight of the week was watching the Jubilee Concert on TV I would be lying but at least it made me laugh with Grace Jones gyrations and Cliff's singing through ill fitting dentures.  Thank goodness for Rolf Harris bringing some emotion to the event with his patriotic rendition of 'Two Little Boys' which was so rudely interrupted by Trevor McDonut.

There was the occasional cease in the rain and my toothache - long enough to visit various of the exhibitions open for Dorset Art Week.  One of these was Farr's Garden at Beaminister - which was open as both part of the Art Week and also under the National Garden Scheme. John and Jenny Makepeace designed the garden and John also crafts beautiful wood furniture some of which along with various artworks was on display in the house. (We had a look at the furniture but as some woman had just fallen off a chair she was testing out and appeared to be rolling around on the floor under the table, we didn't stay long in case I laughed too much!)

The garden had much to be admired.  I loved this bold sculpture framing the view as you walked into the garden


and the unusual topiary.


I was not so taken with the grass garden even though I love grasses.  For some reason it seemed a little dated to me and it was a shame that they had had to put a prominent sign up saying "Deep Water" no doubt in case some annoying out of control child (or adult) decided it was time for a paddle.


I thought the summerhouse structure in the grass garden would make an ideal study.  You could both work and watch the water and the movement of the grasses without constantly noticing jobs that need doing in a higher maintenance garden. In mine every time I look out of the study window I see things that need pruning, deadheading, de-snailing or watering.  Grass and gravel gardens have the distinct advantage of being low maintenance.


The potager I did like.  In fact I more than liked, I absolutely adored it, the untidy mix of vegetables, fruit and flowers overflowing the raised beds and spilling their seed generously into the gravel walkways.



Loose and lovely it was somewhere you would just want to be, and potter, and pick things, and not feel that everything had to be kept pristine and done straight away.


This vibrant display of pots behind the greenhouse was full of my favourites, a happy mixture of succulents, salvias, herbs and various self-seeders..


Farr's garden was well worth a visit.  The next time I emerged out into the rainy gloom was to watch the waves crashing at West Bay after a night of driving gales.

Grey skies and torn bunting sum up the Jubilee week of weather

I could only be thankful that Sir Cliff had been tactful enough not to sing "We're all going on a Summer Holiday" at the Jubilee Concert.

3 comments:

patientgardener said...

oh dear sorry about all the rude intrusions on your holiday. I agree with you the grass garden does seem dated and I have recently been thinking that our love affair with such gardens may be waning and that deep down we English all prefer the typical cottagey garden like the potager you showed which looks lovely. Going now as collapsed from lack of punctuation in previous sentence

S.S. said...

Are underwater grass gardens o.k. ?

janerowena said...

Pah! I raise you a broken foot in Cornwall last week. It was meant to be a time of garden-visiting punctuated by a funeral, with my son booked into surfing school to leave us free to wander around gardens all day. I only managed two (Stourhead and Trelissick) - as when I left the hilly grave in Feock I fell down a rabbit hole. The only available transport back up the hill was the hearse.